Silence is so freaking loud

So say I’m your mom.'
'What?' I said.
'I’m your mom,' he repeated. 'Now tell me you want to quit modeling.'
I could feel myself blushing. 'I can’t do that,' I said.
'Why not?' he asked. 'Is it so hard to believe? You think I’m not a good role-player?'
'No,' I said. 'It’s just–'
'Because I am. Everyone wanted me to be their mother in group.'
I just looked at him. 'I just… It’s weird.'
'No, it’s hard. But not impossible. Just try it.'
A week earlier, I hadn’t even known what color his eyes were. Now, we were family. At least temporarily.

Because this is what happens when you try to run from the past. it doesn't just catch up: it overtakes, blotting out the future, the landscape, the very sky, until there is no path left except that which leads through it, the only one that can ever get you home.

I was beginning to see, though, that the unknown wasn't always the greatest thing to fear. The people who know you best can be risker, because the words they say and things they think have the potential to be not only scary but true, as well.

I don't lie."
"You don't lie," I repeated.
"That's what I said."
"Ever."
"Nope."
Sure you don't, I thought.

Then what are you like, Annabel?" he shot back. "A liar, like you told me that first day? Come on. That was the biggest lie of all.